The sky over Moscow was ruby red, like it was bleeding.
Purple light dripped through the clouds like ink in water too slow, too unnatural. The tear above the skyline had widened since he saw it from the train. Now it pulsed like a heartbeat, faint but steady, casting warped reflections on the windows below.
Damian started walked towards the city.
Hood up. Mask on. Eyes locked.
His boots hit the pavement without hesitation, but every part of him was listening. The wind between buildings. The distant honk of traffic. A woman shouting in Russian a few blocks away. There was still order… but it was cracking. You could feel it if you paid attention.
And Damian paid attention to everything.
The streets weren't empty yet. That would come soon. Right now, people were still pretending they had control. That the weird light in the sky would go away. That the government would explain everything.
They were wrong.
Damian slipped into a side alley and pulled out his phone. Still had signal for now. The official feeds were quiet. No evacuation. No emergency broadcast. Just anchors on loop: "Authorities are investigating. Citizens are advised to remain calm."
Remain calm,
My ass.
He slid the phone away.
Every step now was measured. Not like a civilian. Like a ghost. The way he used to move in the later stages of the collapse. Back when shadows were safer than shelters. When hesitation meant death.
[Passive: Void – Active]
[Ability: Shadow Step – Ready]
Void hummed faintly around him. A thin layer of space distortion. Back then, it made him untouchable. Bullets stopped in the air. Blades never reached him. But that was when he was Level 161.
Now?
[Level: 0]
STR: 0 | DEX: 0 | INT: 0
He gritted his teeth.
That number stung more than it should've. He'd gotten too used to being unstoppable. He forgot what it felt like to be weak. Mortal. Flesh and bone with nothing but memory and instinct to survive.
And the city was already calling for blood.
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Not police.
Military.
Damian looked up. Helicopters. Searchlights sweeping rooftops. The government had deployed early patrols. But they still didn't understand what they were dealing with.
He ducked under a rusted scaffold and kept moving.
Then he heard it.
Screams.
Not just fear, pain.
He ran.
Past flickering street lamps, down a narrow slope, until he reached a cracked intersection. And there, by the mouth of an underpass, he saw the first rupture.
The concrete split like glass. A black void pulsed from the center, hissing and gurgling. From it crawled two things.
Twisted. Tall. Semi-humanoid. Long arms, jointed wrong. Their skin flickered, glitched, like corrupted files trying to wear human form.
"Splicers…" Damian whispered behind his mask.
Low-rank scouts. Not dangerous in packs, not physically strong but erratic. Fast. Unstable. Meant to spread fear and tear through weak minds. In the old world, they were easy kills… if you were trained.
He wasn't.
Not anymore.
The Splicers shrieked in silence, mouths wide, faces stretched. Five civilians backed up against a wall trapped. One screamed for help. Another threw a pipe. It bounced harmlessly off the demon's flickering body.
The creatures sprinted forward.
Damian moved.
[Shadow Step – Used]
Cooldown: 8 seconds
He blinked behind the nearest one, rebar in hand.
"Right shoulder socket," he muttered to himself. "Then spine. Cut the core, destabilize the body. Don't hesitate."
He lunged and stabbed.
The metal bar pierced just under the shoulder, right where the cartilage opened. The Splicer shrieked, body spasming, but didn't fall. It whipped around with speed he forgot they had.
Too fast.
Its clawed hand raked across his coat barely missing his ribs, but fast enough to rip fabric.
Shit..
He backed off, breathing hard.
The second Splicer turned toward him now, forgetting the civilians.
Both came at him.
Damian tried to dodge, but his body didn't move like it used to. His steps were slower. Knees tighter. Reflexes dulled. All the knowledge in the world didn't change the fact that his muscles were soft, his balance off.
He blocked the first hit with his forearm bone screamed.
The second slashed across his left shoulder tearing flesh.
Blood soaked through the coat instantly.
[Minor Bleed – Active]
[-3 HP per second]
Damian stumbled back, vision blurring slightly.
'I got too arrogant…' he thought.
He knew their patterns. Knew their limits. But he forgot his own. This wasn't the body that tore through the 72nd gate in Korea. This was the body of a man who hadn't thrown a punch in over a year.
And now it was bleeding.
But panic never touched his face.
Pain? Yes.
But not fear.
He drew a breath and recentered.
"I know how to kill you," he whispered. "Even if my body doesn't."
He flung a broken signpost at the first Splicer bait. It dodged sideways, just as expected. Right into his Void field.
[Void Pulse – Triggered]
The distortion snapped to life.
The Splicer's limbs locked, slowing mid-motion. Not frozen, but enough for a precision strike.
Damian charged forward, twisted behind it, and drove the rebar deep into the back of its neck.
The Splicer's body buckled, static pulsing through its form. Then, with a final shriek, it dissolved flickering out like bad data.
One down.
The second leapt at him. Damian dodged not fast enough. Its claw raked across his ribs.
He gasped pain flaring, vision swimming.
But the wound wasn't deep.
He gripped a loose shard of metal on the ground. Waited. Baited.
The Splicer lunged again.
Damian ducked under, twisted with everything he had, and jammed the shard upward into the creature's lower jaw through its skull.
A direct hit to the destabilization point.
The body trembled.
Glitched.
Vanished.
And suddenly, there was silence.
Blood dripping from his side. Breath ragged.
But alive.
He staggered against the wall, adrenaline crashing through him in waves.
[2 enemies defeated]
+10 EXP
Level Up: [1]
New Stat Points Available: +5
He didn't smile.
He just looked down at the blood on his glove.
"I was sloppy."
He wiped the mask.
"I had knowledge, but no discipline. I need to fix that. Fast."
***
The civilians didn't move.
The woman was still clutching her child. One of the teens had pissed himself. The man was staring at Damian like he was something worse than the monsters.
He didn't say a word.
Didn't explain.
He just turned and vanished into the alley again, dragging a bandage from his coat pocket and pressing it against the wound. He had maybe an hour before the next rupture.
And he'd only survived this one because he knew what they were.
If stronger things came out?
This version of him wouldn't last.
But someone noticed.
From a rooftop across the street, a drone lens zoomed in.
It caught the shadowed figure disappearing into smoke. Mask on. Blood dripping. A whisper of something not very normal.
And behind that screen, a Russian officer narrowed his eyes.
The first headline would appear in two hours:
"Unknown Masked Figure Kills Gate Spawn in Central Moscow. Russian Officials Decline Comment."
Some called him a heroic soldier.
Others, a ghost.
None knew who he really was.
But as the second breach tore open above a cathedral roof..
Damian moved once again.
This was only the start.
[Level: 1]
STR +3 | DEX +2 | INT +0
[User: Damian Voss]
[Passive ability: Void]
[Ability: Shadow Step]
[New Quest: First Flame Ignition]
[Location: Gate in Moscow]
[Penalty: System Delay for all others]
[Reward: ???]
[Time limit: 148 Hours]